He is the earth,
this horse,
a solid, breathing ground
beneath my fingertips.

The summer sun catches
in the rich, dark copper
of his rippling coat,
a warmth that lingers
even when the days grow cold.

He is the quiet rhythm
of breath and heartbeat,
a steady counterpoint
to the frantic pulse of the world.

He is patience,
a silent understanding
that blooms like wildflowers
in the space between us.

He is everything,
this horse.
My anchor.
My home.